The Meeting
by JohnnyG33
Summary: Modern AU; No Bending: A meeting set up by the Tribe of Running Water reveals information that sets a chain of events into motion that will shake the city of BaSingSa to it's core.


**I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of their characters.**

**This is a dark one-shot that will be an introduction to the larger story. Let me know what you think, first story of this nature I came up with.**

**This story is rated M just to be safe for Criminal Violence, Blood, Strong Language and slight drug use.**

* * *

**The Meeting**

**BaSingSa, Ga-Ga's Bar & Grill, West Side.**

**2:27 AM.**

The man stood outside Ga-Ga's bar, leaning casually against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his sports coat. Granted it was October, but damn did it get cold at night. He took at deep puff of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke from his mouth, lazily peeling away the cancer stick from his mouth onto his right hand. He looked to his left and right, watching the near empty streets for a car that was due any minute. He nervously tapped his cigarette, forcing ash to be blown away from the wind as he reapplied it to his mouth.

Normally he would be spending the night with his girl, or some of his buddies patrolling around their territory. Normally, but things weren't really normal in this kind of work.

Tires suddenly screeched to life down the street to his left, an engine screaming in rage as a pimped out Corvette with its roof down turned sharply around the corner.

Heading straight down towards the bar.

He felt his heart rate spike as he squinted his eyes at the vehicle as he put his right hand in his sports coat, reaching for the Glock he carried everywhere with him. The Corvette was screaming towards him, it's dark blue color shining in the street lights. Two people on each side.

Before he could even unhook his holster, the car sped right past, both occupants not some much as batting an eye at him. He watched the car speed around a corner down the street, peel away and disappear in the night.

The man brought his slightly shaking hand out of his coat and took another puff of smoke. _Damn, I have got to get it together. _He thought as he leaned back against the wall.

Two days ago, there was a drive by in Tribe Territory, in fact right smack dab in a the middle of the local market. One of the Lieutenants, Hahn was walking out of the market with a few of their men and some girls, go figure.

He didn't have any details, but what happened was a well-coordinated drive by with two vehicles, going the opposite way of the street. One drove on the opposite side of the street, spraying automatic fire into the market before driving off. While they recovered from the shock, another vehicle, drove past on the closest side of the road, spraying more fire into their guys.

Two of their guys were taken out, including Hahn, and 3 innocent bystanders.

To a typical Dragon raid from the Western Dragons.

_Fucken Bastards._ Though Hahn wasn't a good friend of him, he still knew the guy, and that his father, Chief Arnook was furious and grief stricken. They went into the Dragon's HQ, guns drawn ready for blood shed, but they deemed they were innocent.

Complete and utter bullshit, and if the B.P.D weren't conveniently located around the hotel, then the place would have been raised to the ground. Even worse, they couldn't find any evidence that the Dragons DID have anything to do with it.

The man rolled his eyes as he flicked his cigarette to the ground. It was times like this that he, and most of the other guys wished that the Tribe would stop with this 'code of honor.' But whatever, he wasn't paid to call the big shots.

He pulled out a carton of cigarettes and was about to pull one out when a Sharp, light blue Saleen S7 appeared down the street from his left, followed by another Saleen S7 and a black 2014 Land Cruiser.

He put the carton back in his pocket and pulled his coat forward and clasped his hands behind his back. The Saleen slowly came to a stop in front of him while the Land Cruiser came to a stop right behind it. The door opened and out walked Bato, Second in Command of the Southern Tribe.

_Well Sittu, here goes nothing._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Bato walked into Ga-Ga's with a look of disgust on his face. This place was a low-life's hang out, nothing to do with them, yet here they were. Bato knew better than to question Hakota, leader of the Southern Tribe and his lifelong best friend. But drugs? He knew something wasn't right with this meeting. The Tribe made much more money with its activates than this drug dealer would ever see in his life time. He clenched his silver brief case tighter, containing an ungodly amount of money for these low lives.

A young, attractive blonde greeted Bato's lead security guard, while his partner scooped out the place. Bato was too, as was his other 3 men and his 'lookout.' He assured them that the place was clean, for he had been there for an hour and saw no cop or gang activity.

Ignoring the blonde's confused look, the guard glanced back with sharp blue eyes at Bato and nodded his head.

"Lets go." Bato ordered as they all moved in unison. As they began to move past the host, she moved out of the way, a confused look on her face. Bato nudged on of his men to his left and motioned over to the host. He nodded his head and turned back to the confused blonde as they made their way to the back bar.

It was your typical bar and grill: From the entrance to the right was a large bar, filled with cheap booze and wine, though it's sleek wooden bar shone in the lights. At least they kept this place clean. Two T.V's were playing sports reviews from the previous day. They walked up a small ramp, with wooden railings on both sides that lead them to the restaurant portion of the bar and grill, which was still within eye shot of the bar itself but far enough so you could have your own space.

Lined up along the walls were booths, and in the far right corner was the man he was looking for. Three men sat along the booth, empty plates and half-filled glasses of beer lay on the tables. Bato couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at these men; for drug dealers, they were welled dressed.

Wearing cheap dress clothes, they men were watching Bato and his five men carefully. One of men was dressed better than the rest, and boasted a number of rings on his fingers. His grey hair showed that either he was an older pro, or the stress of the job was starting to take a toll on his body.

"Aww, you must be Mr. Bato." The man with the rings said as he stood up and extended his hand. Bato took it in his own and shook while the rest of his men respectfully bowed.

"Yes." Bato said as he bowed slightly, not taking his eye of the man who held onto his hand. "And how shall I address you?"

The man smiled, revealing a row of golden teeth. "You can just call me, the Cabbage Man." He sneered, earning a few chuckles from the two men sitting in the booth. Bato held back a frown. He did not like this scum at all.

He released the grip on Bato's and extended his hand out, offering him a seat. One of Bato's men pulled out a chair from a separate table and put it in place for him, so not to sit in the booth with these men. Two men watched over Bato while the others turned their backs, watching the bar.

"So, shall we conduct business then?" Cabbage Man said gleefully as he rubbed his hands together. Bato nodded his head, keeping a close eye on the man as he reached for a brief case under the table. The briefcase was small, but dull. A grey leather sack held together, more than likely lined with special material to hold back the odor of any drugs.

The Cabbage man fiddled away at the locks, silently cursing as he heard one of the locks lock back up. Bato again, held back a sign, but his discomfort was noticed by one of the other goons.

"Keep your panties in a wad, he'll get it open." Bato snapped his eyes to the man who had said that. He was leaned back against the booth, arms behind his head with a smart ass grin on his face. Bato gritted his teeth while keeping a straight face.

"Watch your mouth boy. We don't HAVE to be here with our money." One of Bato's men, a 220 pound bruiser snarled at the man while remaining in his professional posture. The man snorted, his grin only boarding but he diverted his eyes to the T.V on the opposite side of the bar.

"Aww, sorry about that." The Cabbage Man said as the brief case clicked open. He turned it around and lifted it open to reveal…..

Pictures?

Black and white, high definition pictures of people.

"What is this?" He asked. Pictures was the last thing he had expected to see. "pictures?" he stated in annoyance. The Cabbage man chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"More like information." He prompted, but Bato's face was unmoving. The Cabbage Man glanced between the two men guarding Bato. "What?" he chuckled as a smile grew on his face. "Don't your elders tell you higher ups what's going on? Where they are sending you?" He sputtered as he began to laugh. "Oh god! I thought you guys followed that honor shit or whatever." He coughed as he calmed down, but it did nothing to Bato who was now both confused and losing his patience's.

"I have no idea what the hell this even is. I go where I am ordered to. Now, what are these exactly?"

The Cabbage Man shook his head and extended his hand, rubbing his thumb on his index and middle finger. "First, let's see some cash first." Bato sighed as he pulled out his own brief case from the right of his seat and set it in his lap. He flipped it open and showed the money to them men.

"Holy shit." One of them muttered as the grinning scum whistled. The Cabbage Man looked at the money with greed. "One hundred K boys, this is where its at." He smiled gleefully. He then looked up at Bato and pushed his brief case forward, while Bato simultaneously did the same. The man to his right in the booth grabbed the silver brief case and closed it up, and set it down to his right, in-between himself and the Cabbage Man.

Bato took hold of the pictures and quickly flipped through them. They was nothing special about them. A group of men (and maybe woman too?) in a parking lot with a number of cars parked in the parking spaces, another car pulling up, two men getting out, and then….

Bato's face turned pale as he eyed the next picture. It was as clear as day; Zhao. The Dragon's second in command, or as he called himself _Admiral_. The following pictures showed the group leaving in two vehicles, the ones similar described as the ones involved in the drive by shooting that kill Hahn, and brought the cops attention to the Tribe.

"So you see?" Bato looked up at the Cabbage Man. He had a smile on his face, his golden teeth shining in the light as he patted the brief case filled with money. "That's why you were left in the dark, at least it's how I see it." He leaned forward slightly, putting a hand to the side of his mouth. "A war is coming, and I'm gonna get rich from it."

Bato frowned as he closed up the brief case. This was huge. Bigger than any of them really. This would finally be enough evidence to step up their pressure on the Dragons. Though they currently couldn't do It directly, It would give them the ability to use their _contacts._ And to top it off, throwing the cops off their trail even for a little bit wouldn't be hard. Just long enough to inflict some real damage to the Dragons.

"Right. He said as he sat up and picked up the brief case. "Pleasure doing busi…

Bato's voice was drowned out by the simultaneous scream of automatic gunfire, the shattering of glass and wood, followed by the screams of the few workers and people in the bar.

Bato wiped around, pulling out his Glock just as one of his men jumped in front of him, taking three bullets to the chest. The force pushed the gasping and coughing man into Bato. There was a large window in front of the Bar, section as well as one near the entrance, and Bato could see silhouettes of figures outside as well as muzzle flash. Bullets were striking anything; tables, glasses, lights, the TV's, even civilians as they fled for their lives.

As Bato found his attackers, he dove to the floor and returned fire out the entrance, doing his best not to hit the fleeing host.

"Bato! We gotta get-Gahh!" Bato snapped his head back to see his other man slump to the ground, a fist size whole in his skull. The rest of his men were lying on the ground as well. One of The Cabbage Man's men was firing a hand gun as he ran across the tables on the booths, only to be torn to bloody shreds as lead pierced his flesh. He had to get out of here! Through the back. There was no cover between him and the back door by the bar. Most of the lights in that area were shot out, making it pretty dark, plus the smoke from the guns and the debris getting kicked up offered some concealment.

Ears ringing, bullets wising around him and still strike everything, Bato sprang to his feet and sprinted to the railing, frantically pulling the trigger of his Glock. As he neared the railing, he leaped in the air and simultaneously felt a sharp, searing pain tear through his chest, hip and right arm.

Screaming in pain, he hunched together, crashing on top of a table and rolling to the floor as bullets tore into him, darkness overtaking him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sittu groaned in agony. His body burned, and at the same time was going numb. Once the shooting started, he immediately collapsed, unable to feel his legs. He soon forgot that as another bullet tore into his left shoulder and his left side.

He couldn't reach for his gun, the damn thing flew out into the air as he fell. Tried to move, but the swelling in his left shoulder was unimaginable, and he felt an intensive pain scream and tear through his left side, forcing a cry of pain to expel from his mouth, along with a cough of blood.

_I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. _

Was all that was going through his head as he bit into his lip and tried to crawl forward, towards the exit, or at least to his weapon. He tried to force back the tears, but he could, or was it blood? He couldn't tell. For all he knew, he could have been shot in the head.

Suddenly, the firing stopped. He could hear a groan or two come from the bar, as well as some gruff voices coming from outside. He looked behind him and his eyes widened in horror.

They were all dead, everyone. He quickly looked back forward, doing his best to keep the contents in his stomach there and not expel him on the floor. He looked at his weapon, and then looked back towards the bar. He had heard creaking of glass, as individuals began walking through the shattered glass and into the bar.

"Leave no survivors." He heard a sharp, commanding female voice, and just as suddenly a single shot. Sittu's eyes widened, and he felt himself begin to shake uncontrollably. Why? Why did he have to die?

Like this?

"Find the Tribes men. Make sure none of them are alive or have escaped." The same voice came again, this time from inside the building, near the entrance of the bar & grill.

Sittu looked back at his gun, and then back at the door. _Screw this. I'm not dying!_ The vowed to himself. Everything that happened up to this point did not matter anymore. All that mattered was walking out of this.

He carefully but firmly placed his left arm and hand against his left side, feeling the warm blood around two wounds from the gun shot. He pressed his arm against it, and bit into his lip, keeping back a groan of pain.

Another shot, Sittu did his best to not to jump. He felt his head begin to feel light. He blinked rapidly into the carpet, the dirty, smoky sent mixed with the metallic sent of blood filled his nose.

Though his ears were ringing, he could hear the footsteps coming up the ramp.

"Hey, I found the brief case." Came a different females voice, this one was deeper, emotionless. "Gross." He heard her muttered as he felt her footsteps walk over to the booth and pick up the brief case.

More footsteps.

Sittu heard a smash, and then the sound of paper falling to the floor.

"I found the pictures Azula."

Sittu gasped.

A little too loud.

Immediately he felt booted foot smash into his left side, expelling a pain endured scream as he rolling over on his back, facing a girl with black hair in two buns. She was pale, had golden eyes, and wore a black tank top with a black hooded sweatshirt and black jeans.

"Well done Mai." The slitheringly haunted voice came from behind Mai as Azula herself looked down at Sittu, her golden eyes piercing into his soul, the eyes of a conquering with no remorse or mercy. Her smile, though it showed no teeth, was horrifying. The satisfaction she had from watching the life bleed out of him, and tearing them to shreds was sadistic, cruel.

"Alright, let's go. We go what we came for." Azula called back to the others as she proceeded back to the bar while the girl above him, who apparently was named Mai, pointed her gun at Sittu's head.

He closed his eyes and let the darkness carry him away with a pop of thunder.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**BaSingSa, Gilldor Harbor, Apartment 22D.**

**5:44 AM**

The telephone rang twice before he answered it. Today he wished he could have slept in this morning, but he learned early on it is never good to ignore a call.

And today he was right. The Tribe had called. And they had a job for them.

The call was very brief. They were too meet one of their representatives at the Tribe's owned restaurant for breakfast. Best time to fish out that suit and tie he had been meaning to wear. But first, to call his partner.

He dialed the numbers on the phone as he sat on his bed, and ran his hand through his brown hair. Even though it was cool outside, he still dressed as if it were summer. He had slept the night in only boxer shorts, and would usually walk around in shorts and t-shirt while working on his car, or boat or any of his bikes or 'clients' merchandise. Making sure they were greased up, fueled up, or modified to make them good as new.

The phone rang four times until his partner answered the phone, and she, just like him was hoping to sleep in today.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

"No shit Sparky. Ugh, what is it?"

"We got a job, and a big one too."

"How big?"

"They personally asked for the Blind Bandit."

There was a pause, and he could have sworn he heard her chuckle.

"Alright, come pick me up. I'll be ready when you get here."

The line went dead. The man, known as Zuko signed as he laid back down on his bed. The prospect of gaining money was enough to wake the dead up from their graves.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed the story and thank you for reading it. Let me know what you think, for it is the first one of this nature I have written.**

**Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving BTW :)**

**Write on!**


End file.
